When Rey hears the front door open, she knows immediately that it's no mere visitor or intruder. She's still trying to process how much time had passed, between the flashes of memory from her precursor to the strange hazy bits in between.

She opens her mouth to call out to him, but her voices doesn't quite reach passed her throat. So rather than waiting, she throws the blanket off her legs, burying Tripod under the covers as she goes to swing her feet over the mattress.

There are so many things she needs to ask. About how long she had been out, if Safronov had done anything that she doesn't remember -- but most of all, how Nick is. If she were in his shoes, she knows how wrecked she would be. And while he might be a machine, he's got more of a heart than many flesh and blood men Rey has ever known.

Instead of any of those things or even a simple hello, what comes out is a surprised yelp and a harsh thud as her knees buckle upon her first attempt to stand.

By the time Nick enters the room, he finds Rey in a heap on the floor, trying to push herself upright with shaky arms.